


Plant & Sow (I just want to watch you grow)

by penguinjacques



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Baby Keith (Voltron) is adorable, Colleen Holt is great, Gen, Keith & Krolia (Voltron) on the Space Whale, Krolia (Voltron) is a Good Parent, Post-Season/Series 07, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinjacques/pseuds/penguinjacques
Summary: She'd known him in an instant, at the base, before she'd even had the chance to register that the blade pressed to her throat was her own (and every anxious, proud, horrified and thrilled thought hits her all at once— her son, her son in the middle of this war she'd kill and die andleaveto save him from). And she knows him here, probably only a few months after she'd sobbed her way off this planet all those years ago.Many weeks after the battle for Earth, and even fewer weeks since she'd felt the immeasurable relief that came with watching her son open his eyes at last, Krolia finds something unexpected while clearing out the shack.





	Plant & Sow (I just want to watch you grow)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Treasure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092254) by [MoreThanSlightly (cadignan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadignan/pseuds/MoreThanSlightly). 



> This was inspired by, and is dedicated to, [ MoreThanSlightly(cadignan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadignan/pseuds/MoreThanSlightly), whose writing is amazing and everyone should go read _Treasure_ immediately, because it is the most amazing Krolia fic ever. As far as I'm concerned, _Treasure_ is Krolia cannon, and therefore gets all credit for this fic, which was written with that backstory in mind and makes a few references to ideas from that story (see end notes for specifics).

The box is locked.

Krolia frowns down at it, considering. She's made a lot of progress clearing out the storage closet next to the generator, but given that it'd been filled with tools, spare parts, and a few sealed packs that look like they may be emergency rations, she hadn't been expecting to find anything of much significance.

Keith hadn't seemed to think there was anything of much significance in the whole place, really. They'd first come out here to her— to both of their— one-time home not long after the doctors had cleared Keith to leave the hospital. This was quite a bit later than _Keith_ thought Keith should be cleared to leave the hospital, and Kolivan had smirked at her, listening to him argue about it.

Lips pursed, wondering where she could find some sense to shove into his head ( _he'd been so still, for days on end and she couldn't breathe thinking how close it'd been, how her entire world stopped when the blade in her hand flickered on their way toward Earth— of course they should be keeping a close eye, he can't be allowed out of bed yet_ ),  she'd realized that, while Kolivan had spent time with both of them separately, he'd spent hardly any time at all with the two of them together. She knew with resigned certainty that she was about to be on the receiving end of that smirk whenever Keith demonstrated how very much Krolia's son he is (which he does frequently, she's self-aware enough to see) in front of one of the only people who would recognize the resemblance.

Out of the hospital he may be, but Keith is far from fully-recovered. Fixing up the old outpost is as good a task as any to keep him busy when he can't be actively working on the relief efforts, or coordinating between Voltron and the Earth military forces. Between the severe head trauma from the crash that still gives him sporadic, truly awful headaches Shiro had called "migraines," and the robeast's strange, komar-like quintessence-draining weapon that somehow seemed to hit him the hardest of the Paladins, Keith was being firmly discouraged from flying Black, for the time being. The Black Lion was draining to a healthy pilot, and the one time he'd tried to fully link with her since leaving the hospital had left him both too weak to walk out of the cockpit on his own and with a nauseous, pounding headache that persisted for days. Krolia suspected that whatever echo he could feel of Black's guilt about that incident was doing more to keep him from trying again than anything she, Shiro, and the others said.

He's outside now, talking with Pidge and Colleen about setting up a garden here. She'd had one behind the house, once upon a time; he'd seen it a time or two while they were in the Quantum Abyss. Once, they looked on as Krolia carefully picked some chilies with one hand with infant Keith in her other arm, his tiny hand clutching a single lettuce leaf as he stared, fascinated, at the brightly colored peppers. He'd been quite after that one— their first in a while, those revealing and disconcerting events dropping significantly in frequency as the months passed on their journey, though they'd ramped back up again as the exit neared— and finally, before turning in for the night, had said somewhat awkwardly that if she ever wanted to have a garden again, he wouldn't mind learning.

Then, without pausing to allow a response, stumbling over himself to tack on a hasty addendum,

_"But just, um, well— it just seemed like maybe— if, you know, if — I mean, that was something you liked doing, so maybe we would have done th— or. Um. Maybe not, since I guess you did kinda just have to carry me around cause of being...you, know, a baby, and would rather do that on your own so that'd be fine, too. I—"_

_"Keith." He stops. Takes a breath. Looks up at her for a moment before instantly dropping his gaze, shoulders coming up and she aches with how much she wishes he didn't doubt her response even for a tic. "I would love to have a garden with you."_

This place she once thought would be her home for the rest of her life has changed almost beyond recognition. This box, though, she recognizes. It had once been the case to hold the explosive changes she wished she hadn’t needed. The last time she'd seen it, it had been open in the living room, empty. She is not quite sure what it's doing here, but Keith certainly wouldn't have known how to activate—or release— the lock on a Galra-manufactured device. She's not sure what she expects, but her fingers remember the code and it opens on an envelope, unmarked, and an electronic device of some kind. There's a strange feeling settling over her as she powers it on, like she's on autopilot. Why should it work? It's clearly been sitting in this locked box for who knows how many years, at this point, it surely needs to be charged or…

There's a steady inhale, then the rush of a sigh, a short but jarring burst of audio static. The grey couch blurs and then comes into focus. The camera stills, afternoon light spilling across a pale blue rug.

_"I know you'll probably never see this. But..."_

The couch blurs again, but this time it's tears threatening her eyes--it's been a lifetime since she heard his voice, and Krolia's mind fills for a moment with his hand on her shoulder in the scorching heat, gazing over a dusty vista; his laugh as she waits at the top of a rocky path, hands on hips, impatient and fond all at once— they're so close to her goal, and she wouldn't be here without him; her name in his voice, low and cracking as he holds her close and reaches, shaking, to trace their son's cheek as he falls asleep in her arms for the first time.

And then she's drawn, abruptly, sharply, back to the present and the small video screen in her hand as the camera pans to the right. Her heart stutters.

Keith.

She'd known him in an instant, at the base, before she'd even had the chance to register that the blade pressed to her throat was her own (and every anxious, proud, horrified and thrilled thought hits her all at once— her son, her son in the middle of this war she'd kill and die and _leave_ to save him from). And she knows him here, probably only a few months after she'd sobbed her way off this planet all those years ago.

His hair curls over his little ears more than she'd ever seen (their baby looks like her, he says, and it's true except for all the ways it isn’t; his rounded human ears and pale skin and all the little details that make him perfect and theirs and that will let him have a life on this world without fear). He's sitting up, which he'd only just started to do without help before she left, and his eyes are focused on the soft toy in hands, a purple stuffed animal she remembers is called a hippo. She'd seen it in a window display on one of her infrequent ventures, heavily made up and wearing more than was comfortable in the desert heat, into a human city back then. A hand reaches from off camera and gently lifts the toy from his grip, bringing it just below the camera view; a smudge of purple ear sticks up from the bottom of the frame. Keith's gaze immediately follows, reaching over years as her infant son stares out at her from the screen, even as she hears him laughing in exasperation outside.

_"Hey, buddy."_

_"Da?"_

There's a droplet on the screen. She brushes it aside.

 _"Let's show Mom your new trick, huh? She got this for you, you know, and I know it's your favorite."_ Keith is reaching for the toy, leaning forward, one hand on the ground and unsteady legs pushing up. The hippo, along with the camera, moves back slightly, and Keith lurches forward like he's going to go after it before he sits quickly back down. He tries again immediately (Krolia feels a sob rising in her chest, of course he does, some things never change) and he gets one hand on it, leaning, before it moves back again and Keith takes a step after it, pauses, looks momentarily confused and then tumbles back down, giggling. The hippo is handed back and he immediately hugs it tight, babbling nonsense and rocking happily.

 _"Good job, Keith! Look at you go, huh? You're gonna be runnin' all over creation in no time."_ His voice is simultaneously fond, proud, and strained, and something cracks in her.

 

"Krolia? Keith wanted to see if you had any thoughts on— Oh."

What a sight she must be, Krolia thinks somewhere in the part of her mind floating above all this. Poor Colleen, who barely knows her, doubtless did not expect to open the door on the Blade of Marmora leader purported to be cleaning out a closet instead trying her damnedest to stifle sobs on the floor.

“Is…" Colleen hesitates, then continues, "Is there anything I can do? Or do you want me to leave you alone? Or get…?”

“Don’t tell Keith.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m fine, I just found something unexpected.”

Colleen is a mother. Colleen is a mother with two children in this war, both of whom had disappeared for years and could have been dead without her knowing at any time. Maybe she isn’t the worst person who could have come in at this moment. Krolia tilts the screen into view; she had clearly paused the video at some point, though she doesn’t consciously remember doing so. The frame has frozen on a picture of Keith smiling hugely, hugging the hippo with one arm and reaching for the camera with the other. Colleen’s face goes from some combination of alarmed and concerned to a softer expression. She kneels down to take a closer look.

“Awww, he’s beautiful, look at that smile!” Krolia feels her lips twist in a smile of her own, but a one that is rather more complicated than her baby boy’s innocent thrill. He’s so beautiful. She missed so much. She already knew that deeply, viscerally, but somehow this simple video is a final straw, of sorts. He made this for her, even knowing how unlikely it was that she’d get to see it.

Then Colleen says, tentatively, “I don’t really know the whole story. But I know…” She pauses. “Sam was crushed that he was off-planet for Matt’s first year. Matt wasn't exactly planned for the moment he ended up happening, and Sam was locked in to the mission team by the time we knew, he couldn't back out. We were both just relieved I actually had him before the launch, he was early, but it was always something Sam had a really hard time with. Pictures and videos are wonderful, but they aren’t the same and I guess knowing how true that is makes it seem even more huge, looking at them and knowing you don’t get that moment. By the time he got back, Matt was already practically walking.”

Krolia sniffs. Wipes a hand over her eyes. “Even as much as this hurts, I know I didn’t have a choice, not really. But it still just hurts, for both of us. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to him and it will never be enough.”

Colleen doesn’t say anything for a moment, then slowly puts a hand on Krolia’s shoulder. “I don’t think he’d see it that way. He loves you, I saw that in just a few minutes of working with him today. He did research, he drew diagrams of possible layouts for garden boxes and which plants could go with which. He hasn’t put that much thought into the actual house! Katie’s been making fun of him, saying she thought _she_ was supposed to be the “plant Paladin,” get off her turf! He’s asking all these questions, trying to make this place perfect. He’s not doing any of that for himself. He’d do anything for you. That doesn’t sound like someone who doesn’t think you’ve done enough, to me.”

And there are those tears, again. But it’s softer, this time; the desperation’s gone out and is slowing being replaced by the same overwhelming love she felt when she held him for the first time. It’s what gives her the strength to wipe her eyes and put the screen back down in the box. She eyes the envelope next to it, picks it up. There’s a folded letter inside, and a small data chip taped to a note that says “family photos.” Oh, that man. Krolia closes her eyes, wipes them one last time, and decides she’s pushed her emotional luck enough for one day.

“So what did Keith want my thoughts on, exactly?” Colleen graciously accepts the subject change, and rises with her as she launches into a recap of the afternoon’s brainstorming.

 

* * *

 

 Later, as she’s headed out of the hanger to her temporary quarters at the Garrison, she pauses at Keith’s quite, “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Is everything...I. Um. Are you ok?” He looks tired, but not in the same pinched, painful-to-watch way that’s been the case so often since the battle. Just a long day in the sun. She smiles.

“Of course, Keith. Why, did I do something?” She’s been a spy for most of her life, she knows she’d had herself together by the time she and Colleen had joined the two Paladins in the house for a lunch break.

“No! No, just. Uh. Pidge’s mom said I should give you a hug?”

She ducks her head, smiling. “Well, if Pidge’s mom says, I guess you should listen. I’ve heard she can be pretty scary.” Keith squints like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on here. Before she can add any further reassurance, his face clears and he steps forward to put his arms around her.

“I love you, Mom.” Her arms close around her son. She’d almost never known him. She’d almost lost him. She’ll never stop trying to deserve him.

“I love you, too, Keith.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to be sure to mention the inspiration before the actual fic, but now that you've reached the end, here it is once again: a huge thank you to [ MoreThanSlightly(cadignan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadignan/pseuds/MoreThanSlightly), for writing the fic that inspired this, _Treasure_ , it is gold (the pun wasn't intended, but it's there now and I'm leaving it because I have no shame). This is where the idea of Krolia's garden, as well as her state while taking off from Earth, and wearing tons of makeup to go into town, come from.
> 
>  
> 
> I've been queen of the lurkers for most of my fandom existence, so this is my very first ever fic, and I have spent the last week understanding all the #writingishard references I've ever seen. This first hit me when I realized how many words I'd written just to get to the original scene I'd been thinking of, and then having several ideas that can't be covered in the scope of this fic just appear while writing all those extra words I hadn't been planning on. No beta, and I'm sure I'll find typos that will drive me nuts later (if you spot any, by all means let me know, but I don't actually know how editing a posted work...works...so no promises).
> 
>  
> 
> And finally, titles are hard. This one contains, in part, a line from "Child of Mine" by Cal King. Also, I learned the difference between planting and sowing, which is cool.


End file.
